Lay Down Beside You
by coolbreeeze
Summary: Draco comes home from a long day at work and reflects on his relationship with Harry. Slash, EWE and complete and total fluff. Rated somewhere between T and M. A birthday fic for rmhale.


_Dearest rmhale,_

_Happy Birthday to one of the sweetest, perviest, bestest women in fandom. Just for you I popped my HP fandom writing cherry and somehow managed to write absolute Drarry sap just for you. I hope you enjoy it! I cannot wait to see you next month and let you butt hump me again! Tell R to keep my side of the bed ready and warm because I'm kicking him out just as soon as I get to Texas. I adore and love you and I hope you have a wonderful day!_

_-Coolbreeeze  
_

**Disclaimer: I don't own it, JKR does and I couldn't be more jealous or awed by her amazingness.**

**Thanks to Tuesdaymidnight for the late night beta job and to bsmog and OnTheTurningAway for looking it over and talking me off the ledge about writing HP/DM.**

_**OoO  
**_

Draco entered his house, steadying himself from the pull of apparation. Normally, he didn't let it affect him, but tonight, he was just too tired to focus. It had been a long work week and all he wanted to do was lay about with Harry.

"Harry?" he called out from the entryway.

He waited a moment and when no response reached his ears he set out to find his lover.

He walked past the living room, noticing that a light was still on. He flicked his hand and whispered a quick _Nox_ on the room. Harry may have been the pro at wandless magic, but Draco was slowly catching up.

The hallway from the living room to the kitchen was littered with mismatched socks that Draco collected as he made his way toward the kitchen.

Honestly, how hard was it for Harry to put these in the basket in their bathroom? As messy as Harry was, Draco could never live without the insufferable prat that he'd come to love.

Who would have predicted that a chance run in at a muggle club would soon lead them to a first date. And surely, no one would have guessed that first date would cause Draco to feel a butterfly flutter in his stomach as Harry kissed him that night.

Draco absentmindedly rubbed his chin thinking of that kiss that led to bruised lips, breathless pants and a need for _moremoremore_. He wanted the scent of citrus and pine that Harry left behind to stay with him forever.

As Draco entered the kitchen, he shook his head at the mess Harry left behind. A recipe book was turned askew on the counter and dishes were everywhere. Through the chaos that seemed to follow Harry everywhere, he saw that Harry left him a plate of the supper he made sitting at the table under a warming charm.

He cast a _Scourgify_ at the counters and set the dishes to start washing before he sat down in the booth tucked into the corner of the kitchen. It was one of Draco's favourite things about this house.

The entire kitchen was minimalist, as he preferred, but the booth was a selling point when he and Harry were shopping for a new place to accommodate them both.

The booth sat in the corner and was made of blue vinyl. The table in front of it was circular and steel, and apparently made to stand the test of time as he and Harry had tested the sturdiness of it on their first night in their new home.

Draco chuckled to himself while he ate the stew Harry left for him. As much as he complained about Harry getting things dirty, that was one time he didn't mind the mess they created together on the hard surface.

He finished his meal, sending his dishes to join the rest that were washing in the sink and made his way to their bedroom.

Harry must be out, he thought to himself because normally he would have heard more than a few noises from somewhere in the depths of this house. He never felt at home until he had a moment to settle with Harry. It had become their routine from day one. They used each other to ground themselves in their new reality, their new life that they'd come to live and love.

When he entered the bedroom, his eyes were immediately drawn to the giant bed that took up the majority of the space. There laid Harry, tangled in the soft, white, cotton sheets snoring softly.

Draco took a moment to stare unabashedly at his partner. It was clear Harry was wearing nothing in bed as he shifted and the sheet slipped down his waist.

He took in the shock of unruly black hair among the pile of pillows Draco insisted he have on his bed but Harry protested every day. As much as Harry complained, he knew he secretly loved their bed, especially if they were in it together.

Harry had fallen asleep in his glasses (again) and they were crooked on his face. There was also a muggle book resting next to him on the duvet and a cup of tea dangerously close to the edge of the nightstand.

He loved that Harry had traded the wire frames of his youth - the glasses that had seen so much life and death (and more death than life if Draco was being perfectly honest) - for slightly thicker, rectangular, black frames that made Harry look a little older and showcased his handsome, angular face.

Time had done them both well.

Time had healed them.

Instead of counting minutes of darkness, Draco now counted the minutes of light. He had lost count after the first few days he and Harry got together.

Draco began to quietly strip off his clothes as he made his way to the en suite bathroom. When he got in front of the mirror, he took in the scars that littered his body.

The bathroom light seemed to bring out the slight iridescence of the thin scars that crisscrossed his torso.

He could feel Harry's apology in every kiss, lick and nip he made as _The Boy Who Lived_ became _The Man Who Learned What Living Was_ worked his way down Draco's chest.

As Draco quickly brushed his teeth, he looked at the second mark on his body. The one he spent many years being ashamed of, the one that taunted him from his forearm, and another commonality between he and Harry; a permanent marking from a personal hell they both had to claw their way out of day by day.

He spit into the sink and thought how his thoughts of the mark changed in the last several years that he and Harry had been together.

It became harder and harder to remember the pain and suffering that the mark signified when one day Harry focused on the slightly faded, black lines of the snake and begun to speak Parsletongue against Draco's ear as they grinded against each other on the oversized couch in their living room.

Harry had pinned Draco's forearm that held the Mark above his head and used his wicked tongue to tell the blond everything he wished to do to him that night. Of course, at the time, all Draco heard was _hissssssssss _but Harry's voice had dropped to a sinfully, sexy tenor and "hiss" never sounded more erotic.

That night, Harry worshiped the Dark Mark and every single inch of his lover until Draco was coming against his own stomach.

Draco pulled himself out of the memory as he felt the ache of his cock that was currently trapped in his pants. He decided to do himself a favour and quickly shed his trousers and pants in one quick motion.

He turned off the bathroom lights and headed back into the bedroom. When he got to their bed, he moved the book to the nightstand and ran his fingers up the smooth exposed skin of Harry's arm.

Harry shivered at Draco's touch and turned from his side onto his back. Draco put one knee onto the bed, and leaned over to remove Harry's glasses from his face. As he moved to set them on the night stand with the book, he felt Harry's hand reach out and touch his leg that was on the bed.

"Mmm Draco, that you?" Harry's voice was thick with sleep and barely above a whisper.

Draco moved his other leg onto the bed and settled himself fully next to Harry, lifting the sheets and sliding up against the always a-little-too-warm body.

"Yeah, it's me baby. Go back to sleep okay?" Draco ran his hand up and down Harry's side and took in a deep breath, letting it out slowly as he relaxed.

Harry yawned, "Glad you're home. Missed you." he said into the darkness of the room.

Draco raised himself up a bit and planted two kisses under Harry's ear.

"Me too, love. Me too."

Harry shifted again and pulled Draco's arm fully around his waist, and rubbed his thumb over the platinum band that hadn't moved from that finger in 3 years.

Draco thought of the three simple words that were inscribed on the insides of the bands they each wore and realized that nothing was truer than those words.

_All was well_.

_**OoO**_

**Thanks for reading.  
**


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